The Sordid Affair
by Mockkingbird
Summary: They met, they fought, they fell in love. Have you ever wondered how, or why? Two completely different personalities - one single, shared emotion.
1. The Beginning

**Sor**-**did** (Adjective): Involving ignoble actions and motives arousing moral distaste and contempt; dirty or squalid

* * *

The blonde prince silently watched the frail, lithe form of the younger soon-to-be assassin, perched on a rock in the midst of a river. His ears picked up the familiar monotonous voice that absentmindedly contemplated stirring up trouble. The sight of the lustrous seafoam green hair framing a pale, familiar face soothed his increasingly frazzled nerves as he drank in the sight of the one who had become his everything – in the future, that was.

'..._Apple head?_'

He choked back the ripples of laughter that threatened to erupt from his lips. This was a serious situation, according to his commander. He would not ruin the attempt to retrieve Fran, the boy who would eventually belong wholly to him.

But that little twerp had to go all out and call them – the infamous Varia – a bunch of fairies. Somehow or other, their fairy branding had even gone on to evolve into cavity imps. The nerve! He did not care for the other peasantly members of the Varia, but how dare that little frog insult his princely looks? The prince was confident in his looks and comparing him to a measly imp was preposterous. His love of sweets and other treats aside, the prince was absolutely appalled.

As he watched the crude exorcism that the frog was attempting to perform, he made a quick decision: he did not like him. Never mind the fact that the future had paired them together as lovers – that word rolled off his tongue nicely and sent a warm tingle down his spine, something uncharacteristic of a prince but that was to be forgiven. He did not like this scrawny abomination before him.

As the frog launched into a new verse of chants and continued his ridiculous dance, the prince finally snapped. Without any semblance of reason running through his mind that he was about to attacked a frail 10-year-old child, with a quick swipe of his hand, he sent three of his beloved knives in the direction of the little brat, body poised to launch a second wave of attack.

The shocked look on the frog's face almost made him regret his action – almost. Until he bent down with a cry and the three knives simply flew right through his ridiculously large apple hat, and then proceeded to shout some more filth about a '_stupid-looking_' prince who had forgotten to '_cut his bangs_'. The atrocity! His bangs were insured for millions and framed his perfect, flawless, princely face! The last straw arrived in a form of an insult directed towards his precious knives and the prince all but lost it as he lunged towards the running child with a feral snarl.

The next thing he managed to recall was the little frog scrunched up and making faces at him while the lean sinewy hands of the commander struggled to hold him back, muttering curses and other vile expletives as he shouted for the prince to "_CALM THE FUCK DOWN_,", in the exact terms. As he thrashed out violently to reach out and pummel the little frog into the ground, the thought that was running continuously through his mind was about how much he hated, abhorred and absolutely despised that little brat. That was just about the last thing he remembered, until a large shadow suddenly fell upon his face and he looked up to see the sword arm of the commander move, in slow motion, towards him.

With a gruesome thunk, the blonde prince crumpled, face first, onto the ground.

* * *

He woke up on his princely bed, in his princely room, wrapped up in his princely bedding. Were his eyes playing tricks? Because somehow or other, there was a little frog at the foot of his bed with a devious grin on his face, aiming what distinctively looked like a paintball gun towards him.

There was no way in hell that this was happening. The prince refused to acknowledge this. He was about to reach for his knives when the door to his room burst open with a bang as the peacock of the Varia waltz into view, loudly proclaiming Fran's position as the newest member of the Varia.

The prince – who at that point of time already had the frog in a choke hold and was about to plunge a fistful of knives into his skull – stared open-mouthed at the ludicrous announcement that Lussaria had made, while his knives slipped out between his fingers and fell lamely onto the floor.

This was not happening. This could not be happening! But the evidence of reality was there, right in front of him. With a groan, he fell back onto his premium down-filled pillow and tried to think up methods to decapitate the little frog.

* * *

**A/N:**

**To clear up any misunderstandings, in order to make their (future) relationship seem more plausible I have adjusted their ages. Bel's age remains the same (16) while Fran is now a lovely little 10-year-old child.**


	2. Adjustments

**6 months later**

* * *

The mother of the Varia let out a sigh as he silently recounted the escapades between the blonde prince and the newly adopted illusionist. It had been an extremely trying six months, most of which was spent trying to separating the two who were constantly at loggerheads. It did not help that the illusionary powers of Fran had been improving by leaps and bounds – he was undoubtedly a prodigy when it came to illusions but the ways in which he used his powers were at the very least, questionable.

Lussuria thought fondly of the many episodes in which Fran had used his powers for the greater good - seeing the prince being put in place was a good change from his usual arrogant atrocities. It was impossible to pinpoint exactly which episode had been the most hilarious; was it the time when Fran had tricked the prince into thinking that the fountain in the courtyard was his personal bathroom, leading to a show of exhibitionism that both thrilled and stirred up fear in the Varia underlings who were training in the gardens? It was, and was not a pretty sight. Another strong competitor could have been when the blonde had been tricked into thinking that Levi's old socks were freshly baked cookies - the look on the prince's face when he thought that he had struck gold was laughable; but the look that followed soon after almost tore apart his own chest with the peals of laughter that erupted unceasingly.

But there was more – he would never forget the morning when Bel stormed into the Varia kitchen in a skimpy towel which barely covered his princely assets and a full head of bright green. A hideous, unnerving shade of green that distinctly reminded him of slime from a swamp full of toads. Breakfast had been ruined by the shrieks from the prince and the deadpan insults from Fran that were laced with slightly more venom than usual. Sometimes, it seemed as though the illusionist actually enjoyed trading insults with the blonde prince – Lussuria was well aware of the relationship between the two in the future, and there was no doubt that Bel knew as well. But alas, a block of cheese had erased all of Fran's memories and it seemed unlikely that he would regain them.

The passionate exchange of lust-filled cries and guttural moans between the two from the future were completely lost in the present – the only exchange there was was of hate and cruel, albeit a little humorous tricks that would send the other into a frenzied range.

The way in which Fran treated the rest of the Varia members however, was completely different. He was almost pleasant sometimes, unless he was throwing insults their way. The young lad had been slowly edging his way into the hearts of the Varia members, although no one was willing to forget the way that he had first insulted them; his antics with Bel had grown on them, and no one was willing to admit this either. It was good that someone had finally arrived to give the prince a little taste of his own medicine.

However, he frowned as he thought of the exchanges between Fran and Mammon. Mammon knew that Fran would eventually become his replacement, but only heaven knew when that time would finally come. There was a palpable tension between the two whose existence was slowly becoming more evident to the other members of the Varia.

Lussuria's eyebrow twitched slightly as he watched the scene before him – here he was, trying to enjoy a simple Tuesday morning in front of the television watching Gossip Girl and two of the youngest were whirling around the room, fighting over the last strawberry popsicle. He watched as Squalo walked in with a smug grin plastered unto his face – there was no doubt that this was the work of the shark, and the two had fallen for it hook, line and sinker. It was easy to cause dispute among the two and the resulting reactions could be priceless, at the right times. This was not it. Muttering under his breath, he silently cursed and moved closer to the television so he could concentrate – only to have Fran trip over seemingly nothing in the carpet and land face-first unto his crotch.

Just another day.


	3. Sweet Treats

The two sat quietly beside each other, Bel lolling around languidly on the couch as he snickered to himself, sucking hard at the cone of deliciousness before him. Fran sat beside him and the contrast between them was glaring – skinny knees tucked into his chest as he gave small licks and nips to a cone similar to the one the prince held, only bigger.

Lussuria – undisputedly the mother of the Varia - had gone shopping earlier on and returned triumphantly with treats for the two youngest, an act which garnered complaints from Squalo and Levi who demanded equal attention. The boss was gladly, up in his office so this one act of biasness had gone unnoticed. The two youngest had pounced onto their ices with gusto and for once, were sitting quietly beside each other as they enjoyed their treat.

Quietly, until Bel had finished.

Bel frowned. Fran had three-quarters of his strawberry ice cream left and he was licking it in an extremely tantalizing manner that was slowly making his princely blood boil. He did not find it fair that a mere peasant had something he did not, although other more normal people would argue that Fran simply had something he already had – but this logic was lost on the prince. His intellectual capabilities were at times, arguable.

Seafoam green eyes met blonde, wispy bangs as Fran looked up, finally acknowledging the pair of hidden eyes that he had felt was visually trying to rape the cone in his hands. Without a word, he held his hand out, and offered the cone to the prince.

Bel frowned. A small voice in his head was nagging at him, telling him that sharing food or anything else with a peasant was not something that royalty should be doing. But the cone was calling out for him. Begging for him, begging to be seduced and swallowed whole.

Throwing his princely pride to the deepest recesses of his mind, Bel accepted the ice in silence by giving it a lick. This went on alternatively between the two, until the treat was gone and both were satiated by an indescribable sweetness they had felt.


	4. A Farewell & A Welcome

As the black Maserati finally pulled out of the driveway, the porch of the Varia mansion was left with six rather disgruntled looking individuals. Mammon, the illusionist of the Varia and one of its core members, had left to answer to the call that had for months, been appealing the each member of the arcabaleno. This was private business, and there was an unspoken rule that no one was to mention this in Mammon's presence – no word was spoken about the baby's return, and they could only hope that return he did.

With a grunt, Xanxus turned and stepped back into the mansion, dragging the shark of the Varia by his hair as he took a swig from the ever familiar bottle of whiskey he held in his hand. No words were spoken but it was evident that the boss did not want to be disturbed - the leaving of a core member always guaranteed a large amount of paperwork and it was well-known that this was something Xanxus was not fond of. This was evident, to all but Levi, who silently followed the pair all the way to Xanxus's room, where he was unceremoniously chased away by the slam of a door in his face.

Lussaria sniffed into his ridiculously pink, lacy handkerchief one last time as he let out a single, broken and overly-dramatic sob, after which he rushed back into the mansion, presumably to the kitchen where he belonged. No one enjoyed the loss of a member and it was the job of a mother to comfort their children – the rest of the Varia could certainly expect a scrumptious meal later on during dinner.

Out of the corner of his eye, Fran stole a look at the blond prince who was rocking himself back and forth while perched dangerously on the narrow railing of the steps leading down to the driveway. Secretly, he hoped that Bel would fall, but that would likely mean that he would erupt in anger and the illusionist would once again be the one who bore the full brunt of the flames. This was not exactly a thrilling thought, and the young illusionist shuddered as he contemplated the ways in which his senpai would come up with in order to harm him, or at least cause him to break the indifferent mask he always kept in place.

Bel had been silent ever since the departure of Mammon had been finalized – this was something to be expected, since they had been mission partners for a long time and the baby had been with him since Bel had first joined the Varia. The bond behind that was subtle, but it was there and it was unbreakable - although there was speculation that the bond was completely one-sided, ever since Mammon chose a single dollar bill over saving the prince when this scenario was laid out before him. It was almost a sibling relationship, albeit a rather confusing one since the roles were strangely reversed.

The illusionist spared the prince one last glance before he walked back into the mansion. He was still a child, after all, and such emotional farewells were not something that a mere child was used to handling.

* * *

Dinner that day was indeed a superb affair; Lussaria had completely outdone himself. The entrée was perfect, a warm soup that ravished the taste buds and helped to soothe the feelings of the assassins. The main course – prime ribs and a brilliantly roasted sirloin steak was met with silent appraisal, and for once, even the boss was satisfied. The meal ended with the classic apple pie a la mode with a scoop of premium, creamy Italian vanilla gelato on the side, though in the case of the two youngest they had strawberry instead. It was a meal fit for the kings – somewhat fitting in the sense that the members of the Varia were royalty in their own right.

* * *

When the next day rolled around, the atmosphere in the Varia mansion was completely and utterly different. The somber mood in the air from the previous day had completely lifted and was replaced with an air which held a tinge of celebration. This was the day that Fran would finally be inducted as one of the core members of the Varia, a day where he would be presented with the Mist ring of the Varia and the day where one and a half years of grueling training would finally pay off. Fran had become an excellent illusionist under the tutorage of both Mammon and Mukuro, and he himself possessed one of the greatly coveted hell rings – proof of his strength. He was no longer the '_child_' of the Varia, figuratively. He was now completely capable standing his own ground whenever things boiled down to a fight.

So the rest of the Varia members watched as Xanxus presented Fran with the ring he deserved, and one by one they each exchanged a glass of the finest Italian wine with Fran as he swore fealty to the Vongola, to his own pride as a mafia assassin and as a core member of the Varia. The initiation ceremony had finally ended and it was time for the celebrations to begin.

And In the case of the Varia, as represented by their boisterously loud members, the noise and cheer from this party resounded in the air across the Italian countryside in which the mansion was located. Fran was now officially a part of them, and he would remain as long as the blood in his body ran through his veins.


	5. Partners in Crime

Whistling a morbidly cheery tune to himself, Bel finally reached the office of his boss and burst inside with a wild grin on his face – a grin which promptly disappeared when he caught sight of the young illusionist who was already sitting in front of the boss. He felt a pair of piercing, charcoal black eyes on his own and watched as the boss nodded to the empty chair beside Fran.

With a snicker, Bel promptly sat his princely ass down on the cushioned chair and waited expectantly for what the boss was about to say.

As Xanxus took another long swig of wine, he finally broke the silence and muttered, "The two of you are now mission partners."

It was at this point of time that Bel finally realized why he had woken up on the floor of his room that morning. It was evidently a sign that today would be a horrid day for him. With a frown on his face – a frown which should not actually be present as it ruined his princely features – Bel opened his mouth and was about to ask "_Why_?", when he realized that a certain frog had beat him to it.

Now his frown had deepened even further and he turned to his side to demand an explanation from the Varia illusionist, who stubbornly refused to acknowledge him. Angered at the blatant display of disrespect from the frog, he had his knives out at the ready and was about to viciously slash Fran for denying him an answer - to a question he had not exactly asked - when he was suddenly struck in the head by a bottle of wine.

This was Xanxus, after all.

Gritting his teeth and ignoring the throbbing pain that managed to officially classify the day as one of the worst he had ever had the pleasure of experiencing, Bel turned back to face his boss as he tried in vain to glare at Fran from the side. This glare went unnoticed, of course; how was one supposed to see his eyes under that thick curtain of blonde hair? His thoughts turned to thinking of new ways in which he could terrorize the frog, until his train of thought was rudely interrupted by the boss, who completely ignored Fran (and his question) and instead told the two to (quote) "_Get the fuck out of my office_," and "_call Squalo inside_,", only he used the term 'shark trash' instead, although this wasn't something that the commander needed to know.

As the two stepped out of the office, they parted ways in silence. Fran had gone off to find the commander - whose voice could distinctly be heard a couple of halls away - while Bel decided to pay a trip to the city center in order to stalk out new targets for him to either harass or carve out new pieces of art. The spilling of blood, no matter how horrific the act must seem to ordinary people, was one which helped to calm him down and enabled him to think clearly. His usual option would be to stab the Varia illusionist a couple of times, although since his current situation was partly due to the frog, his option was currently unavailable since it would not allow him to think.

His former wavering feelings were soon replaced with a childish sense of sheer excitement as he thought of how he would enjoy his hunt - hearing the pleasurable scream of his victims, the feel of his knife tearing away at muscle and drawing fresh, crimson blood never ceased to put a smile on his face.

While perched at the top of the _Pirelli Tower_, his eyes scanned the crowd fervently as he waited for suitable prey. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a familiar flash of green make a right turn into _Cacio_ street and smirked.

Maybe his day wouldn't be that bad, after all.

* * *

**Cacio means 'cheese' in Italian. I think trying to think of a street name that sounded appropriate and this one worked. **


	6. Swarm

Several months had passed since the two were officially paired as partners and they were undeniably the two who worked best together, compared to the other pairings from the Varia. They were quick, efficient and utterly unstoppable, although the fact that the carnage spilled in every mission increased significantly each time was rather worrisome. Their flashy displays of violence and sheer power greatly increased their reputation, causing it to spread far and wide, strengthening the legacy of how fearsome the Varia was.

Their missions had been completed one after another with not even the slightest hint of danger. With their streak of success, Xanxus was pleased enough to give the two a day off, all to themselves where they were guaranteed that nothing would disturb them. This was not a common occurrence and the two were secretly pleased with the thought of how they would be able to indulge themselves on that one sacred day.

But things did not always turn out the way you expect them to, and the two assassins certainly did not expect to find themselves trapped and at the mercy of a rival family on the day before their promised break.

* * *

The mission was seemingly perfect, everything had been going smoothly according to what they planned, but Bel grit his teeth in anger as he finally realized that things had been going _far_ too smoothly. They had walked right into an open, waiting trap – like mice to cheese and now they would have to face the consequence. Bel readied his knives and prepared himself for the slaughter to come, and he quietly glanced at the body of the illusionist beside him. Fran looked as calm as ever and it was at times like this where Bel wondered if the illusionist had any form of emotions at all.

Bel's distraction was suddenly distracted as someone lunged into his vision. He hear the resounding bang of a gun and darted to the side quickly as a bullet grazed his shoulder blade barely a second later. With a feral snarl and a quick swish and flick of his hands, two knives whizzed through the air and found their mark on the one who had the audacity to fire at a prince. It was then that the true battle begun.

The throes of enemies never seemed to ceased no matter how many knives he flung, no matter how many cactuses he made. He had lost track of the illusionist by this point of time and was more focused with keeping himself alive and dodging the steady stream of bullets as he slaughtered the men around him. Not ten minutes had passed since the first knife had been flung and the number of people who had died by his hand was already uncountable. Bel had not earned his title of 'Prince the Ripper' for nothing.

It was then when a flash of seafoam green came into his line of vision while he was musing about his triumphs on the battleground – somehow it seemed as though the numbers of the enemy had suddenly been reduced to a quarter. Exactly what had Fran been doing? Despite his curiosity, this was a question that Bel actually did not want an answer, for Fran would definitely seize this as a chance to show Bel what hell was like, and this was something the prince was not prepared to face.

The illusionist joined the side of the prince, and Bel could not help but notice that his clothes were drenched with a bright red liquid which was unmistakably blood. But whose blood, that was the question. Bel had often come out of battle in similar situations, except not a single drop of blood spilled was his own – another one of his battle triumphs. He would surely be able to find his answers later, he thought, as he silently sent another blade whizzing through the air. The illusionist had survived so many of his stabs and slashes and he was sure that this would be the same.

Oh, but how wrong he was.

The number of enemies had dwindled down to a mere few lackeys who had simply decided to throw up their arms and run away in blind fear, only to have their lives cut short by a polished silver knife from a certain blonde prince. He snickered to himself as he took in the macabre sight before him; floor painted with ruby blood and adorned with corpses - a scene straight out of the apocalypse, Bel turned to the illusionist with a triumphant, shit-eating grin on his face – only to see the frog sway unstably once and collapse into the hands of the surprised prince.

Bel frowned. Fran seemed much lighter than he usually was and his face was devoid of colour; he felt a trickle of blood stream down his arm as the illusionist leaned deeper into him and came to a realization that Fran was injured – _so much for his being a genius. _This did not seem to be any simple injury either. Trying to bite back his urge to laugh at the pain the frog was going through, for once, Bel decided on the right course of action, promptly whipping out his phone to call Lussuria, who all but politely re-directed Bel to the nearest hospital instead.


	7. Improved Triumphs

Fran had been cooped up recovering in his room for two weeks and Bel was beyond bored. The boredom was excruciating, even. Xanxus had forbidden Bel from taking up missions on his own and there was no way in hell that he would allow himself to pair up with Levi, who in his opinion was a peasantly as a peasant could ever become. He mumbled darkly to himself as he watched the rise and fall of Fran's chest as the illusionist slept on, unaware of the blonde who had been by his bedside without fail for fourteen consecutive days. Fran who probably have denied this fact from being true if not for Lussuria who had been secretly documenting the two in a series of tapes by hidden camera – he had proudly announced to Squalo that this would be his "**BELFRAN LOVE EDITION!~~~**" and he was confident that the two would appreciate such material when they became lovers, as it that was ever going to happen.

Bel pursed his lips and wondered how long more it would be until Fran would finally decide to wake up. He decided that a few pokes who suffice and pounced onto the bed atop the illusionist – in a rather compromising position, that would certainly leave tongues wagging if anyone were to walk in and see the two – poising with knives in hand to begin his series of prodding and poking.

It was then that a pair of crystal clear, seafoam green eyes opened and stared directly into his blond bangs.

"…Froggy?"

"Yes, senpai?"

The prince hesitated, and then continued, "…Are you awake?"

"No, senpai."

"Hurry up and wake, then. You've kept the prince waiting long enough."

It was only then that Bel noticed the stupidity of both his statement and question and was fuelled with renewed anger as he resumed his previous course of action, only now he decided that stabs would do in the place of mild prodding. This, however, was once again interrupted.

"Senpai, can I have a glass of water?"

"…water?"

"Yes, the one you get when two molecules of hydrogen combine with a single molecule of oxygen. The substance that covers two-thirds of the earth and makes up almost 90% of a cucumber. The thing we drink everyday and the thing that's also used to flush our toilets and clean our floors. The one where-"

Fran was rudely interrupted by Bel who had shoved a glass of water into the illusionist's face.

"Thank you, senpai."

Bel unclenched his fist as he heard those few sacred words of thanks. He was glad that he hadn't yet lost control and decided to mince the frog into a bloody mess – after all, he only obtained permission to be in Fran's room by promising the commander that he would not lay a single hand on the illusionist while he was still '_recuperating_', in the words of the shark. Although Bel himself would be the one who decided whether or not the frog had recuperated enough.

A lock of hair had fallen across Fran's face, blocking his beautiful eyes from the prince's vision and Bel absent-mindedly lifted up his had to brush it aside, only to meet with the questioning, probing irises of the twelve year old illusionist. He snickered to himself as he shifted to sit, cross-legged beside Fran.

"Senpai, how long have I been out?"

"Two weeks, froggy. You are weak. The prince is much better than you. The prince did not get injured at all."

The prince winced a little at the lie he told, but seconds later he decied that there was nothing wrong with bettering his own reputation and thus launched quickly into a blow-by-blow account of how invincible he was during the battle, of how the enemies had fallen upon their peasantly knees to beg for mercy as the prince graciously slaughtered them to spare them from their own patheticness.

Fran watched silently as he watched the prince tell his extravagant lie while contentedly sipping his glass of water. He had other more pressing questions to ask, but he had learnt the hard way that Bel did not enjoy being interrupted while he was in one of his story-telling moods. This usually did not dissuade him from doing what he wanted, though. If not for the fact that he did not want any more injuries in his current state, he would not have thought twice about letting loose a barrage of questions and insults.

So as the story of the Great Magnificent Mighty Prince Bel finally drew to a close, Fran finally piqued up, and asked, "What are you doing here, senpai?"

The prince frowned. Fran had asked an obvious question and he was not keen on answering to stupidity.

"The prince was looking after a sick frog."

"Oh." Another sip of water. "The whole two weeks?"

Bel nodded enthusiastically. Perhaps he could add nursing to his list of accomplishments, ignoring the fact that he didn't actually do anything at all.

"…then will you tell me a bedtime story?"

Bel was shocked. Was the frog sick in the head? Bedtime stories were for little children although he himself could not deny that Fran was indeed, still considered a child, since 12-year-olds were still able to buy movie tickets at the child rate in theatres. He decided that there was no harm in complying with the wishes of the peasant, thus he tucked himself beside Fran into the bed covers and launched into an atrocious account of how he, as a six year old child had single-handedly defeated a seven headed orc and a nineteen headed fire-breathing dragon that had been threatening his castle. Of course, both tales were completely untrue, but this was not something that the illusionist needed to know.

This soon turned into an exchange of stories between the two and Fran told Bel about his granny's horrible cooking and about the time where a grizzly bear had almost eaten Fran while he was fishing (unsuccessfully) in the river. The talk evolved into that of the utterly hysterical and perhaps, mentally inept as the two exchanged bits of information from their past; experiences that had become wonderful stories to tell.

"…so did you really eat the cheese, in the end?"

"Yeah," Fran replied, with his face in a nonchalant mask, as usual. "But the old man hit me really hard afterwards, and he never let me play with his cat ever again."

Bel snickered. Fran had certainly been through a lot of nonsensical episodes.

"Do you really like cats that much?"

"Yeah. I like cats. They're really fluffy and it makes me want to squash them. Granny once gave me a music box – but it's gone now – when you winded it up and opened it, it was like an opera house full of dancing cats. It was really nice."

"So what happened to it?"

"I dropped it in the river and I never saw it again."

Bel snorted. Fran would definitely be able to make a living as a comedian, in the future.

Their banter never ceased, and when Lussuria walked in hours later, he found himself cooing softly as he tucked in the two youngest of the Varia, who were curled beside each other in sleep. Bel had his arm swung around Fran's petite shoulder and Fran was tucked snugly in the crook of Bel's neck, with a look on his face that Lussuria had never before seen.

It was with a slight sense of deviousness that he whipped out his camera and snapped a picture of the two – a picture which they would definitely come to treasure in the near future.

* * *

**A/N:**

**My first attempt at a proper conversation between the two! With proper dialogue and (hopefully) correct punctuation! I've always been horrid at dialogue. **


End file.
